Stubborn Jerk
by webbswoman
Summary: Dean gets into a bar fight. Sam intervenes. Gen.


Title: Stubborn Jerk

Fandom: Supernatural

Genre: Gen

Summary: Dean gets into a bar fight. Sam intervenes.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

The smell of burning flesh lingered on Sam's clothes as he paced up and down next to the Impala. The streetlight above him flickered, hummed and went out and he looked around for signs of anything supernatural. Satisfied that there was nothing about to attack, he leant back against the Impala and fixed his gaze on the door to the bar. Dean had gone inside half an hour ago to have a quick drink before they headed back to the motel.

Sam shook his head; their latest hunt had shaken them both and Dean was coping the only way he knew how, by having a stiff drink and then locking the hurt away behind his carefully constructed walls. It had always been his brother's way, Sam reflected bitterly, just as it had been his father's way.

A few people hurried out of the bar, throwing nervous glances behind them. Sam frowned and looked back up at the broken streetlight, wondering whether he'd been wrong to dismiss it so quickly. He pushed himself up off the Impala and felt for his gun before jogging over to the entrance and hurrying inside.

The bar was darker than most bars they usually frequented and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust but he didn't need to see anything to know that Dean was in trouble. The familiar sounds of fighting, the slap of flesh on flesh and the grunts of pain made Sam flinch as he focused in on his brother and the sight before him. Dean, pinned up against the wall, his head turned slightly to the side. Dean, with blood running down his face. Dean, frantically trying to get away from three men who were bigger than him as they continued to punch him.

He'd seen all he needed to see.

Surging forwards, he pulled the first guy off his brother and pressed down hard on the pressure point in his neck. Yelling at Dean to move, to do something, he threw the limp body to the side. The other two men turned away from Dean, ready to turn on Sam, and froze at the look in his eyes. They winced as Dean hit the floor with a thud.

"I suggest you step away from him. Right now." Without giving them time to reply, he moved towards his brother and helped him to stand, "Think you can make it to the car?"

Dean snorted, "Course I can. This, this is nothing, Sammy." He took pride in the fact that he only slurred slightly.

"C'mon then, you actually need to move to get to the car."

"I know, I know. I'm moving."

Sam kept a hand on Dean's arm, steadying him as they made their way out of the bar. A few of the patrons flashed them apologetic looks but not one of them thought to offer help. Sam bit down on the urge to ask them why they hadn't intervened; it wasn't like Dean would have appreciated the outside help.

Once they reached the Impala, Sam held out a hand for the keys and bit his lip when Dean handed them over without arguing. He glanced over at his brother as he settled into the passenger seat.

"Dean, you need to try and stay awake. Your head…" He trailed off at the glare that he received.

"Dude, I know. I've been getting bumps on the head for years."

"Right, yeah. Okay. What happened in there? I mean, how did _they _get the drop on you?" He drove slowly, smoothly, mindful of Dean's injuries.

"Jumped me from behind, knocked my head off the wall. S'only reason I didn't fight back, think I've got concussion."

"A wall will do that to you. Why exactly did they attack you?" He pulled the Impala into a space near their motel room door and twisted in his seat to face Dean.

Dean shrugged, "They were drunk and looking for a fight, it would've been someone else if they hadn't found me."

"That doesn't make it okay, Dean. C'mon, let's get inside."

This time Dean waved Sam's hand away, stating adamantly that he could walk on his own. Sam followed behind, shaking his head as his brother swayed towards the door.

"Stubborn jerk." He took the keys out of Dean's shaking hand and opened the door for him.

"Protective bitch."

* * *

Sam sat in front of his laptop, research covered the screen in front of him but his eyes were fixed on his sleeping brother, as they had been for the last hour. A frown was fixed firmly in place and his knee was bouncing up and down. He needed to do something else, something more to help Dean. His brother had to be shaken after the night's events, even if he wouldn't admit it. It wasn't often that someone got the better of Dean Winchester in a fight and it wasn't just the physical effects that would be hurting Dean.

He scowled, knowing exactly how Dean would be feeling; weak, useless, a failure.

Over on the bed, Dean turned over onto his back and groaned, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes as he woke up. Sam stood up and walked over to him, picking up a bottle of water on his way. Dean drank gratefully, tossed the bottle to one side and grabbed hold of Sam's wrist.

"Sit down, Sammy."

"Okay." He made himself comfortable next to his brother, didn't comment on the way that Dean moved closer until they were touching.

"Thanks. For earlier."

"Dude, you really have got a concussion."

"What?"

"You don't need to thank me, idiot. I'm your brother; it's what I'm here for."

Dean didn't reply, just nodded and cleared his throat.

"Seriously, Dean. I'm not ten years old anymore, you know. I can look out for you just as much as you've always looked out for me."

"Yeah?" Dean turned to look at him, a smile on his face.

"Yeah."

Sam paused for a moment and then touched his hand to Dean's. Later, he'd tell Dean that he was soppy for not pulling away and Dean would blame it on the concussion. For now, he was just content to enjoy the moment.


End file.
